Wilbur always seems to have something for me. First, it was arrows. Overhearing that mine weren't quite the ones for me, he piped in, "You need 16/16s? I got some." Serendipity. Never mind good vibes. The world needs more of that. It turns out, there's more to be had, luckily.
Next, it was a clicker. I had one mailed to me - waited eagerly for it - and when I brought it to class to get some help putting it on, it was a bust. "Here, see if mine works."
It seems like he's always opening his metaphorical trench coat. "Pssst. You looking for a pair of short limbs?"
We archery folk enjoy grabbing up new toys. As Wilbur's moved on up to better fitting and more fancy, I'm reaping the rewards. Then, so does the next person down the line. It's only beneficent. Hope Rob's enjoying his specially mail-ordered clicker.
As a side note, St. Sebastian is the actual patron saint of archers. Oh, and pin makers. (There's a career I never considered.) This is because he was shot so full of arrows he looked like a pin-cushion. I'm not sure why that would make him the patron saint and thus a defender of these people but let's consider it a Catholic mystery. Anyway, he miraculously recovered. A short time later, though, he was clubbed to death.
Wilbur, don't take the patron saint thing too seriously, eh?